Disclaimer: Not only do they not belong to me, this fic was
entirely Logan's fault. He practically hung over my
shoulder while I was writing at the graduate library. It
was daunting. I hope he's satisfied.

Author's Note: Again with the weird non-sequels. It's
continuous with 'Logan Returns', and it's not. If that
confuses you, feel free to email me and I'll do my best to
better explain it. This part originally took place only
days after his return and was the part after 'Box of
Twenty', if you care to know.

*

Okay, so I'd only been around for a couple of weeks, but
did the kid own any clothes that didn't cover her entirely?
Not that I'm trying to be a lecher, but people her age are
wearing clothes that cut off at all sorts of odd places,
right? So, wouldn't she at least *want* to wear them, if
only in private? Wouldn't that be normal?

Alright, so I'm getting the impression that Marie rarely
acts her age, but sometimes it looks like she really wants
to, and hell - clothes are important to women, aren't they?
I know *I* sure wouldn't mind seeing her in one of those
little halter-top things and a pair of cutoffs. I think
she'd be damn near irresistible in it, and it's not like
I'd let anyone get within spitting distance of her, hell
no.

So, I wonder how I can wing it without looking like a
pansy-assed little fool.

Of course. Perfect. Well, maybe perfect. Hell, I could
try, couldn't I? And if I was a complete and miserable
failure, then the only one who would know that would be
Marie, and she's the only one who already *does* know. I'm
sure Scott has his pet theories, but only Marie has my
concrete proof in her head, but enough of that.

To proposition Marie I needed to find her, dammit. We'd
parted ways at dinner, me needing a cold shower and to
think, and then maybe a cold shower again, her to do
whatever she does when she's not with me or the Jubilee
Company. And that left me where?

Grinning under the needle spray of cold shower number one,
for once not feeling it at all.

~~~

They always say you find what you're looking for the last
places you look, but that's stupid ain't it? Soon as you
find it, you stop looking.

I stopped looking at Marie's door.

She was in there, I could smell her. As I raised my hand
to knock I heard her voice and if I hadn't been trying so
damn hard not to grin all over myself at my plan and trying
to find her I probably would have broken out into grins
a-fresh.

But I didn't.

Manly Logan, prowling around Xavier's mansion, spoiling for
a fight, that's who I was. A fight� sure. Well, I heard
on the news one time some lady reporter talking how sex and
violence were so closely related, so maybe me looking like
I wanted to brawl wasn't so very off target.

Yep, that was me, manly Logan, wanting to break out into
smiles over a slip of a girl knowing I was at her door
before I knocked, calling for me - in the sweetest voice I
ever heard - to come on in.

That Logan.

"Hey," I said, closing the door behind me and leaning
against it, real casual. She raised her eyebrow, like she
knew what I was up to, but she couldn't - I'd only just
come to the brilliant idea and under a damn cold shower. I
wasn't sure I woulda thought of it otherwise and I was sure
she hadn't taken a similarly cold shower. Considering it,
I was pretty sure I was in the clear. And even if she did
know? So what. I'm transparent to Marie. Worse things
could happen, I'm sure.

"Hey yourself, Logan," and the way she drawled my name I
had to fight the shiver up my spine. Damn, man - get a
hold of yourself. You can't come apart at the seams this
soon. When the night's over and you've tucked her in and
you're back under the cold water maybe, but not until.

I crossed my arms against my chest and leaned back against
the door, settling in. My voice was a little more gruff
than I'd intended, but hey, it was steady. Small miracles.

"Whatcha up to?"

"Readin'. Chillin' out. You?"

"I'm bored," I lied, knowing she might see through me, but
not really caring. It was a pretense and a lot of people
can see through 'em, even those who can't sniff out lies
like us. Fact of the matter was, I was damn near hyper
inside. Or, as excited as I can remember being and these
days I can remember a hell of a lot more than I used to.
Upto and including quite a bit of the mental training I'd
gotten on the other side of the world which is why my heart
was slowed to normal instead of beating as fast as it
wanted to.

"Well now," she said, putting her novel aside and smiling
at me as she tucked her legs up beside her in the chair.
"Boredom is a terrible affliction - what *shall* we do?"

"Game a' pool?" I suggested gruffly, raising an eyebrow.

"The mansion doesn't have a pool table, Logan. �ah.
Okay."

Bar, I bet she was thinking. Good girl. She thought about
the idea for a minute and then uncurled herself, stretching
as she got up.

"Why not?" She came closer to me and the door and I came
away from it a little, like I was about to open it, but
looked her up and down first. I plastered a look on my
face like I was concentrating.

"You gonna wear that?" It almost killed me to see her
crestfallen face, but I was hopefully about to make it
better, so here goes nothing.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearin'?" she asked, looking
down at her dark slacks with those big commando-type
pockets that looked so out of place on civilian clothing.

"Nothin'. 'Cept you're all covered up." Come on, baby,
come on�

She breathed again and rolled her eyes and I knew she
wasn't mad at me.

"And for good reason, or have you forgotten why I wear
gloves?" she asked, holding up her hands and wiggling her
fingers at me. I leaned a little and caught one and my
thumb rubbed her knuckles as she took a few little steps
closer so neither of us had to lean anywhere.

"Relax," I murmured, still holding her hand, still rubbing
the back of it. "I won't let anyone get near you." Ever.
Not if I can help it.

"Relax," Marie repeated back at me ruefully, then closed
her eyes, gently at first then tighter. Her jaw was
working - clenching then unclenching and after a minute of
silence her hand squeezed mine as tears leaked slowly
behind closed lids.

"Hey, hey�" Without letting go I pulled her to me and her
free arm wrapped around my waist and her face hid in my
chest. I whispered silly calming things into her hair and
just held her for a minute till I thought she really was
calm. Then I held her a little more.

"You okay, darlin'?"

She sighed and leaned back a little so we were more or less
on the same level, looking each other in the eye.

"Ah'm fine, Ah think. It's just," she paused, sighed, then
continued. "It's been a long time since anybody invited me
to actually relax like that. It's been even longer since I
have."

I hadn't actually thought of that possibility before,
though I supposed I should have. It was about then, right
when I was feeling damn foolish that I looked over and saw
a yellow housecoat draped over the second bed in the room.
There's only one person in the mansion that I've noticed
taking to wearing yellow at all hours, and that would be
one Jubilation Lee, fashion maven.

"And Jubilee?"

"Ah cain't do that."

"You think she'd mind?"

"Only if we didn't take pictures."

I grunted. That could be arranged. In the meantime I kept
hold of Marie's hand and dragged her over to her roommate's
closet. I opened it up and just sorta stared into while
Marie started going through the dresser next to me.
Thankfully she did find something before I was actually
called upon to suggest one of an array of � well, let's
just say I was lost.

"How 'bout this one, Logan?" Marie held up a blue t-shirt
to her torso.

"It's a t-shirt," I replied disdainfully, hoping for
something I could see her stomach in. Of course, it's her
stomach, and if she don't feel comfortable showing it off
to the general public, I'd understand that too. I'd be
hell and gone disappointed, but I'd understand.

In the end she rolled her eyes at me. I think she imagined
I was making a comment on the t-shirt as a fashion
statement.

"Is this better?" She held up a dark green shirt with
microscopic sleeves and a hem that couldn't possibly reach
her waist, so I grinned.

"Do you like it?"

"Do I get to wear gloves?"

"If you want."

"Then I like it. Now what about the bottom? A skirt?"

Not that I wouldn't like to see her in a skirt, but we were
taking the motorcycle, so felt like I had to give her fair
warning. Her response surprised me, her looking all world
weary and rolling her eyes again.

"Well, I suppose if the skirt's short enough it won't
really matter, now will it?"

She had me there. Boy did she have me there.

I turned my back as she changed into the black mini skirt
and her green top, and idly wondered what I was getting
myself into.

"Logan� I cain't wear this out. I feel nekkid."

"Well, yea, but *are* you?"

"No."

I turned around and just about lost it. Damn she's pretty.

"You look good, Marie."

"Yea?"

"Yea." She sighed and smiled a little before going off to
find matching gloves. She disappeared into the bathroom
and I realized I'd left a particularly handy gift from
Charles in my room. I called out to her that I'd meet her
in the garage, that she should come down as soon as she was
finished.

I was sitting there on the motorcycle with my
brand-spanking new soft as sin gloves on, waiting for my
Marie to get her cute ass down so we could go play pool. I
should have known it wasn't gonna take her the minute she'd
promised in the bathroom. So being I was me, my mind got
to wandering.

And I got to thinking how she'd dreamed about me.

Okay, so if you'd asked me before if that sort of thing was
likely to happen I woulda said yea, but I guess I didn't
really think about it in practice. I took a minute then
and thought about all the things I could remember dreaming
of lately and not-so-lately, all the things I'd wanted to
dream about. I thought about how the fantasies had gotten
a little more frequent and a little more specific and how
the nightmares had gotten a little less frequent, but still
a little more terrible now that I had more information to
add to them.

But at the moment, all that mattered to me right then was
that she'd dreamed about me.

On this motorcycle.

Really, it leads to thoughts that get the blood pumping,
and if it weren't for the fact that while I'm definitely on
the seducing road that leads to Marie, I'm trying
desperately to go the speed limit, and fuck it - it's
really not working out that way. Not with the thought of
us fucking like� How'd she put it? Wild crazy monkey sex?
Right on this here bike, the smell of pine and wild flowers
and Marie in heat surrounding me.

I have to say, it's quite a fantasy to start out with.
Just as well we hadn't switched dreams last night. I'm not
so sure how Marie would have reacted to my little cage
fightin' fantasy. No, not very sure at all.

"Hey there, handsome - how do I look?" I snapped out of my
haze and realized she was close and I hadn't even noticed.
Damn. I craned my neck around so I cold look and give her
as honest an opinion as I could, considering that even I
knew what a loaded question that could be.

Of course, one look and I realized I wouldn't have to lie,
not even a little. Then again, finding my voice and
unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth would
probably be a problem. She was wearing what I saw before -
no change there, but her lips looked redder and her eyes
seemed to glow. I could see my tag nestled right between
her breasts. My gaze lingered there for a second before
taking in her very fine bare legs ending in little
not-quite-boots that only came to her ankles. But the
clincher was her hands.

"Nice gloves," I think I heard myself say.

She raised one to inspect it, looking at both sides,
pulling at the cuffs that ended barely to her wrists, then
smiled over to me. "I'm steppin' out," she replied. As
she walked over it dawned on me that she'd probably be cold
on the bike. I shrugged off the jean jacket and looked up,
holding it out to her as she frowned.

"After all that fuss, now you want me to cover up?"

"Just for the bike," I replied, holding the jacket so she
could put it on.

"And won't you get cold then?"

I grinned wolfishly. "I'm Canadian."

Well, I am. And at some points I do actually act like it.
No, I don�t say 'oot and aboot', or end every sentence with
'eh?', or hell, even really care about that whole Ontario
thing, but nothing beats a hockey game with a six pack of
Molson. Unless it's a twelve pack of Molson. Or possibly
a twelve pack of Molson in one hand and Marie in the other.
I wonder if she likes hockey�

Marie rolled her eyes at me and slid in behind me, her arms
settling around my waist, her thighs hugging the outside of
mine, and the rest of her just getting as close as she
could.

Her breath tickled my ear when she spoke quietly, her face
rubbing against the hair at the back of my neck. "Thanks
for taking me out, Logan."

"No problem," I grunted, just before gunning the engine.

***

So. Feedback, anyone?

=====
"It's actually been a beautiful day. A lot of people who could make your life difficult decided not to." -Bono

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